Autumn Chill
by Danyu
Summary: Haru/Rin. "She closed her eyes, knowing his sleepy plans were a futile daydream, but still for a moment, she let part of herself believe him." ONESHOT.


**Autumn Chill**By Dan'yu

The pallid beams of light trickled down from the lunar specter hanging among the ebony skies stretching above the earth, spilling in through the wide-paned window to give the lightest hint of luminescence. In the ghostly glow, he could make out her faint silhouette, the proverbial curves and contours of her body outlined by shadow. The air outside was more than likely cold and biting with the frost of early winter, evident through the misty haze fogging the window.

But the cold was chased away by their warm cocoon of blankets and entangled bodies, sheltered by a heavy, faded quilt he had dug out of Kagura's linen closet and lulled into a languid, drowsy sleepiness by the body heat shared between them. Haru smiled faintly as he listened to her murmur softly under her breath, nestling closer to him, sweetly pliant and yielding in his arms despite their earlier battle regarding the heavy flannel nightgown now covering her slight frame.

That autumn, the weather had taken a severe turn from the lingering warmth of summer to lead them into one of the coldest seasons they had seen in a good many years. The severe temperature change led to outbreaks of illness among the family, especially those whose health was already delicate, Rin herself included, and when a fever and chest cold culminated into pneumonia that landed her once more in the hospital, Haru found himself hit with a severe impression of mortality and just how fragile the girl he loved could be.

Since then, when she had finally been released and allowed to come home, his concern and worry had not lessened, and he had hovered and cosseted, fussed and henpecked until she was beyond exasperated by him. But still, she didn't seem to really mind as much as he would have thought, and though she argued and teased him for being a mother hen, she always grudgingly submitted, disgruntled but indulgent to his whims. This latest whim had been to bundle her up against the cold of the evening, and though she had pointed out that he had no problem sleeping in the buff despite the chill, he had only smiled and pulled her into his arms, kissing her breathless until neither of them had the will to fight anymore.

Tactile euphoria swept over him, enveloping him in endless sensations, his naked skin sliding against clean sheets, the pleasant warmth from their shelter of blankets soaking into him, the familiar weight of her curled against him. He distantly regretted the fabric serving as a barrier between their bodies, separating him from the silken skin and soft curves his mind and hands remembered so clearly, and the fact he couldn't make love to her in her still weakened state, but still the feeling rivaled with the serenity of having her warm and soft and breathing so peacefully in his arms, and he found he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Rin stirred against him, mumbling incoherently as she nuzzled against his neck, an absent sign of affection that came easily in the lazy contentment that had a hold on both of them, fear and insecurities pushed aside for the one weekend the house was empty, Kagura and her parents gone on a family trip, his parents so busy that weren't likely to notice his absence. He responded by disentangling one arm from between them and cupping her cheek, turning her face to meet his in a gentle kiss.

Her lips parted beneath his in quiet invitation, and he lazily kissed her, his senses bombarded with familiarity almost bittersweet in its rarity, the way her body shuddered lightly under his touch, the way she tasted, the clean, subtle scent she radiated.

She settled back onto the bed, stretching out on her stomach, and he joined her, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her close. He watched her as he lightly rubbed her back, her eyes fluttering closed with appreciation, the soft moan that escaped her as he took his hands lower, caressing her sides, the angle of her hips through the material of her nightgown, and he bent down, just hovering above body-to-body contact and he pressed a kiss to her nape, grazing his teeth lightly against the tender skin. She hissed in a startled breath and angled her head back to kiss him, something different in this kiss, darker and hotter that invoked the flush of arousal through him, and he pulled back, struggling to temper his instinctual response as he dropped back into his place beside her, meeting her questioning eyes with a bashful smile. "Sorry," he whispered quietly, "I can't help it."

"Help what?" she asked, her voice tinged with naiveté, though she had a faint idea of the problem as she smoothed her hand over his abdomen, felt the subtle play of muscles shifting beneath his skin. She loved the feel of the unyielding strength of him; even more because of the profound gentleness she knew existed there as well, in his eyes, in his touch, in his smile.

"Wanting you."

She couldn't help the faint stir of surprise and pleasure that stirred at those words, for echoes of her childhood still lingered, abandonment, parents who no longer loved her, no longer wanted her. The implications were vastly different, but she knew that with Haru's want came his love, and the chance to be close to him. The thought was more than enough to have her lips curling into a small smile. "And what's wrong with that? I want you too."

He squeezed his eyes shut as her caresses took on a light, teasing air, tracing circles along his chest and abdomen. "You were just sick. You're not ready yet." With a stifled groan, he grabbed her hand and stilled her motions. "Keep that up, and I'll lose my resolve."

"Maybe I want you too." She stared at him for a moment, tilted her head inquisitively. "I'm recovering anyway. Hatori-nii said so."

"He also said you needed rest."

She sighed, and shifted away from him, lying back on the blankets. "Alright, fine." She lay silent for a few moments and he wondered if she was sulking. He lay back with a sigh, glancing in her direction out of the corner of his eye, greeted with the sight of her rigid back. Her body radiating too much tension to be asleep, she was still eerily quiet, the silence stretching out between them stifling and disconcerting.

Haru shifted uncomfortably, his face contorting into a pained expression. He could not help himself from continuing to look her way, wondering, wanting, feeling discomforted by her lack of attention. He stared at her back, willing her to do something, say something, _anything…_

Finally, he acquiesced, however reluctantly, and turned to his side, facing away from her. He huffed, exhaling sharply, and began murmuring under his breath indignantly. However, a moment later, he felt a slender arm slip around his waist, and the warmth of her body pressing against his back. The teasing brush of her breath against his skin, and then the sound of amused laughter in his ear, "Come on, Haru. Don't tell me you're pouting just because I wouldn't pay attention to you."

"I don't pout," he maintained, turning toward her half-heartedly, distracted by her fingers curling in his hair, toying with the soft tufts at his ears.

"Sure," she responded, and he tilted his head to look at her, taking in the warmth in her eyes, the carefree quality of her smile. He shook his head and sighed, unable to hold back a grin as he basked in the rarity of her smile. Taking advantage of her hold on him, he grabbed her arm and used his weight to roll them both over, landing with her beneath him. He straddled her waist, levering his weight lest he crush her, pinning her wrists above her head as he grinned down at her merrily.

She rolled her eyes though she shook with quiet laughter, and her face a-light with such warm delight was a breathtaking sight. His breath caught in his throat and he smiled lightly, his eyes softening. She caught his distraction and stared up at him quizzically, arching one fine brow in inquiry, studying the change in his expression.

Something akin to incredulous understanding flashed through her eyes, and she placed her hand behind his neck, drawing his head down to lightly kiss the corner of his mouth, brushing her nose against his cheek as she pressed her lips to his ear. "You're wonderful, you know that?"

"How so?"

Her hand slipped upward, playing with the fine hair at his nape, smoothing through the soft tresses. "You just are. No one's ever looked at me the way you do. It makes me feel…I don't know…strange…I don't understand it, but I know it's all you're doing."

"Iie," he breathed, bending down to press a kiss to the curve of her neck, the play of his lips against her skin sending a shiver down her spine, "You're beautiful."

She flushed, averting her eyes from his. Another playful grin played at his lips, delighting in her rare moment of shyness, and he bent his head to kiss her, slowly, languorously, feeling her body melt into his touch, sweet and soft and yielding.

He reluctantly broke the kiss, sinking down beside her onto the mattress, the length of the bed nearly ending after their escapades so that he flopped down at an odd angle so not to slid off, his head and feet dangling in open air. He craned back his head, letting his eyes lazily trace over the familiar contours of her bedroom, coming to a slow stop at the window, curtains open to let in the faint moonlight.

"Do you remember when we were kids," he asked softly, "And we used to watch the clouds?"

"You mean when you dragged me outside on impossibly hot days because you wanted to show me the shapes of the zodiac animals in the clouds?"

"Exactly," he sighed softly, almost regrettably, "I don't think I like this time of year. It's always too overcast to make out shapes."

She stared at him for a moment, and then she only shook her head indulgently, familiar by now to his bizarre behaviors. "Why are you so set on being able to watch the clouds?"

"Cause it's something we've always done together. It's too late in the season to watch the leaves change, so I want there to be something…"

She frowned. "That's my fault. I got sick and we couldn't go."

"Naw, s'not your fault." He leaned back against the bed, his eyes closed as he yawned, his speech slurring as drowsiness bombarded his already dulled senses.

Rin swatted him in the arm. "Don't fall asleep in the middle of a conversation," she chided, "That's a bad habit of yours."

"Sorry," he mumbled, gazing at her through hooded eyes, "I'll try not to. I'd like to do something, though. Maybe when the snow falls, we can go up into the mountains."

"The mountains?"

"Hmm-mm. And stay at the family cabin. You'll have to remember to bundle up tight, though. I won't risk you get sick again."

She closed her eyes, knowing his sleepy plans were a futile daydream, but still for a moment, she let part of herself believe him. "You've always taken care of me, even when I didn't deserve it."

He smiled lightly, nuzzling his head against hers. "You've always deserved it. You've always deserved more than I could ever give you."

"Stop that," she said quietly, caressing a hand down his side, "We're always trying to do that."

"Do what?"

"Give each other more than we really can."

"Yeah," he whispered, "But it's only natural, I guess."

"Natural, huh?"

"Yeah," he replied as he kissed her, slipping his arms around her to pull her closer, "Comes from loving."

She slid her arms around his neck, curling against him once more as they lay back against the bed. "Then you know I love you, right?"

"Yeah. And I'm grateful for it, every day."

She smiled at him, resting her head against his shoulder. "Sentimental baka."

"Maybe," he responded, "But a baka who cares about you." He yawned, his jaw stretching to encompass the act. "So can I sleep now?"

"Of course."

He murmured a drowsy reply, asleep before his head hit the pillow, and she nestled against him, listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Haru no baka," she whispered to the darkness, "When will you learn?"

Only silence met her statement, and she accepted the quiet, closing her eyes to be lulled into a gentle sleep, ridden with dreams of the impossible.


End file.
